Northmen 23: Lemon

“It was a direct order!” Yorrin scowled across the clearing.

Aleksandr held up a placating hand, but Yorrin was in no mood to be placated. Still, he took a breath, and paused in his tirade.

Aleksandr looked from Yorrin to Levin. “Levin,” he said. “Do you wish to offer an explanation?”

Levin looked down on Yorrin. Yorrin knew there wasn’t anything necessarily meant by it—Levin was a little taller than Aleksandr, which meant he towered over Yorrin just as a matter of practicality. Still, Yorrin didn’t appreciate the narrowed slant of his eyes or the frown on his lips.

“Nah,” Levin finally said.

Of course not, Yorrin thought, his annoyance bubbling up anew.

“Now is not the time to be tight lipped,” Aleksandr suggested. “Yorrin is understandably upset. He gave you a command in battle, and you disobeyed. Still, I would like to hear your reason.”

A long silence dragged on. It was only out of respect to Aleksandr that Yorrin held his tongue. The three of them were standing in a clearing a few hundred feet from the site of the battle. The rest of the company was patching up light wounds, searching the dead, and preparing to get back on the road.

It is only by God’s scales of protection that we didn’t lose anyone, Yorrin thought. If Levin’s stupid stunt had gotten someone killed…

“Seemed more important,” Levin said finally.

“What did?” Aleksandr said.

“Spits,” said Levin. “Outnumbered.”

“That was not your concern,” Yorrin hissed. “You left Nathan high and dry to defend our flank. If he had faltered, things would have gone very badly.”

Levin shrugged. Aleksandr did not seem to like that. “Do you have nothing else to say?” He asked.

“Nathan’s good,” Levin said simply. “He was fine.”

The fucking gall, Yorrin narrowed his eyes. He doesn’t even regret it. The sour son-of-a-bitch.

“It doesn’t matter how good he is, you didn’t know he would be able to handle it!” Yorrin snapped. “If Cara and I had not been able to save him, he wouldn’t have. He very nearly died. I was the one with full visibility of the field. I made the call for you to hold position. If we can’t count on you to fulfill the jobs you’re given what the hell good are you to any of us?”

Levin’s frown deepened, but he said nothing. 

Aleksandr sighed. “Yorrin raises a good point, Levin,” he said. “We are not overly concerned with strict hierarchy here, as you know. I prefer to trust that every one of us is working with best interests of the company in mind. But in heat of battle—commanders must be obeyed, da? Only in a case where the commander lacks some important knowledge would disobeying a direct command ever be excusable.”

“He didn’t know anything I didn’t know,” Yorrin interjected immediately. Aleksandr nodded, seeming to accept the claim.

Levin shrugged again. “Sorry,” he said.

Sorry? I don’t need your sorry,” Yorrin said. “I need you to follow orders.”

Aleksandr rubbed his temple with the fingertips of his right hand. “Yorrin, he understands. Da, Levin?”

Levin nodded.

“If this happens again, you will no longer wear that cloak,” Aleksandr said. “I hope it does not come to that. Understood?”

Levin nodded again, stone-faced.

“You are dismissed,” Aleksandr said.

Levin turned and went in silence. Yorrin watched him walk back towards the horses and was about to shout at him when he realized someone else was walking towards them. He nudged Aleksandr, and nodded in her direction just as she arrived.

“Alejandra,” said Aleksandr. “What is it?”

“Excuse me, sir,” she said. “I just wanted to speak on Levin’s behalf.”

Oh, spare us. Yorrin rolled his eyes.

Aleksandr, however, nodded. “Da, go on. What would you like to say?”

“Well, only that we were in a bad situation. Svards all around us, more than we expected. Me and the boys, we are good riders. Good fighters. Even so, I was afraid.”

“Understandable,” Aleksandr said.

“Si. Levin rode to our aid. He helped us to rout the Svards. I am not sure we would have made it, if he had not done what he did,”

“And doing what he did very nearly got Nathan killed,” Yorrin said.

Alejandra winced. “Si,” she said. “I understand. You are the commanders. I only wished to say… he was trying to help. He did help, us.”

“By disobeying a direct—” Yorrin saw Aleksandr hold up a hand, cautioning him, so he shut his mouth.

“I understand,” Aleksandr said. “Your concern for Levin is a mark of your sense of honor and duty, Alejandra. It will be remembered.”

She looked surprised at that. “I—that is not why I came here,” she said. “I just—”

“Da, we understand,” Aleksandr said. “I will consider your words. Is there anything else?”

“Ah. No, sir. Nothing else,” Alejandra still looked a little surprised, or perhaps disappointed.

“Dismissed,” Aleksandr said.

She nodded, and turned to return to the others. Short-sighted, Yorrin thought. She has no idea how badly that—

“Yorrin,” Aleksandr said.

I don’t like the sound of that, Yorrin swallowed. “Sir?”

“You are right, Levin should have listened to you. We are not rigid, but the chain of command must be respected. Especially in battle. There is no doubt of this,” Aleksandr said.

“I agree, sir,” Yorrin said. I can hear a “but” coming…

“Alejandra might be right,” Aleksandr said. “Things looked very bad, from the raft.”

Yorrin’s impulse was to object. Deny. He bit his tongue. This is Aleksandr. No exaggerations.

“They—yes,” he said. “Looked bad from where I was as well.”

Aleksandr nodded. “Alejandra might be right.”

“She might. But… if Cara and I hadn’t intervened when we did, I’m sure Nathan would have eaten Svardic iron.”

“Da,” Aleksandr said. “I believe you, of course. This changes nothing. Levin should not have disobeyed.”

Damn right he shouldn’t have, Yorrin bit back any reply. He just gave a terse nod.

“Thank you, for leading the men in such a difficult moment,” Aleksandr added. “You did well.”

Yorrin said nothing at first. What’s there to say? He wondered. Nothing but the obvious.

“Thank you sir.”

Aleksandr smiled. “Come, we should get moving.”

Yorrin smiled back. “Right behind you, sir.”


Crossing the Ironblood marked their entry into the land the Caedians called the Loheim. The first thing Yorrin noticed was that the name was probably apt, assuming it meant something like “Low Country” in whatever tongue the name came from.

The land north of the Ironblood was mostly flat, and frequently muddy. Small groves of trees dotted the landscape, as did many distant farmsteads. The Cassaline road seemed to have been built on a slightly raised foundation, rising maybe half a foot above the most common height of the damp ground.

It took a while to find a suitable campsite that first night, but as with every Cassaline road sooner or later they came across a well-used patch of dry ground marked with firepits. A brook trickled a hundred yards from the campsite, and a cluster of trees served as both a windbreak and a place to lash up the mounts.

This will serve nicely, Yorrin thought. We could fit two or three times our number here. Though it’s missing something…

“Lemon,” Yorrin called out. After a beat of silence, he repeated himself. “Lemon! Get over here.”

He saw a couple of the company staring at him in confusion, but understanding dawned on them one by one. Yorrin allowed himself a small smile when he saw Orson nudge Levin and whisper to him. Finally, Levin wheeled his horse and approached Yorrin.

“You’re digging the latrine pit tonight,” Yorrin said. “And filling it in the morning.”

Levin gave a single nod, face blank. He began to turn away.

“And again tomorrow night,” Yorrin added. “In fact, just assume you’re on latrine duty until further notice. Alright, Lemon?”

Yorrin saw Levin’s cheeks flex as he clenched his jaw. His lip quivered the faintest of frowns. Then he nodded again. He turned his horse, and this time Yorrin didn’t stop him.

When he’d finished pitching his tent, Yorrin looked over to ensure Levin was doing as he’d been told. The lean, tall man was still wordlessly toiling to shovel out the pit. Yorrin noticed Carlito down in the dirt with him, shoveling at Lemon’s side.

Yorrin took a step towards them, about to reprimand Carlito for neglecting other duties, when he paused. He looked across the camp, and frowned. Of course. Alejandra and Martín had tended to Carlito’s horse for him. They had pitched the tent the three of them shared in sin, and they were both hard at work hauling water.

If they want to work extra to help him, that’s their decision, Yorrin reminded himself. That’s how Aleksandr would see it. I’m within my rights to put Lemon on my shit list. The work needs to be done, and he can do it as well as anyone. But Aleksandr would say there’s a difference between that and being purely vindictive. If the deviants feel they owe him, fine. So long as they don’t shirk any other duties.

Yorrin watched as Alejandra and Martín walked past Robin and Bear—the two men were laughing and dicing by the fire, and Martín gave a grin and a nod when one of them invited him to join in. But he kept walking, carrying the water over to the cookfire.

Yorrin took a breath, and turned away from it all. He saw Michel and a couple of others cutting up vegetables and a slab of salt pork, and he went to lend them an extra pair of hands.

If they want to work twice as hard for Lemon, it’s their wasted effort. We’ll see how long their generosity lasts, he thought.

In the morning, it was Alejandra helping Levin to cover over the latrine. And after a long day of riding drew them that much closer to Northwatch, Martín took his turn helping Levin dig out another pit the next night.

It stopped annoying Yorrin by the next morning, when Carlito took a second turn. They truly feel a debt to him, Yorrin realized. They feel that he saved their lives, and they’re showing it.

That they were wrong was almost immaterial, Yorrin began to realize. They think it’s true, and it ties new bonds of brotherhood between them. Much as the puckered up canker of a man annoys me, if he keeps doing as he’s told and doesn’t complain then he’ll be sticking around.

Yorrin sighed as he cinched the last strap on his horse’s harness. By the time Lemon and Carlito were done, their horses had been prepared for them by Alejandra, Martín, and Orson.

Aleksandr would say that camaraderie like that is only a good thing, Yorrin decided as he swung into the saddle. And that’s what matters.


“The Svards definitely beat us here.” Prudence delivered her report bluntly, with no attempt to soften the bad news. “Northwatch has fallen.”

Aleksandr frowned. Yorrin didn’t hide his disappointment either, letting himself heave a great sigh. “Well,” he said. “We figured that might be the case.”

“We did,” Prudence agreed. “But there’s more.”

“Oh?” Aleksandr asked. “What?”

It was just the three of them, for the moment. Prudence had led a scouting party around Northwatch while Yorrin found a sheltered campsite. For the last hour of their approach the terrain had finally raised into some low, rolling hills dotted with forests. It was good terrain to hide out in. For us and for them, Yorrin reminded himself. He was fairly certain they had evaded pursuit, going offroad and camping out in woods dense enough that it was difficult guiding in the horses. Can’t be sure, though.

“You saw Northwatch as you approached, right?” Prudence asked. “The tower, I mean?”

“Yes, we saw it,” Yorrin said. 

Northwatch was a single tall stone tower that dated back to the height of the Cassaline Empire, a watchtower against the northern barbarians as they continued their seemingly inexorable conquest of the world. Yorrin knew that the keep today was comprised mostly of wooden walls and fortifications built all around the base of the tower. But the tower itself remained, and it was visible from a great distance away. 

“It’s why we’re hiding deep in the woods right now,” Yorrin reminded Prudence. “If the Svards hold Northwatch, there’s no way they didn’t see us approach from the road. So they might be out looking for us, and—”

“I don’t think they are,” Prudence interrupted. “Looking for us, I mean. I started wondering what was going on when I noticed the tower still flies a Caedian banner, but—”

“Obviously they hope to lure in the unsuspecting,” Yorrin cut in. There, now we’re even.

“That’s what I thought at first,” Prudence agreed. “But when we got close, I reconsidered. We could see men on the walls, and heard voices speaking Svardic inside. Actually, Gunnar said a lot of them were speaking Kriegar. But some was Svardic.”

“Get on with it, Prudence,” Yorrin said.

“Well, the men we saw on the walls looked the part of northern reavers. We’ve seen enough of those to recognize them. But there are figures atop the tower, and they did not look like northmen.”

“What did they look like?” Aleksandr asked.

“Caedians. One of them was looking down from the tower, but not at the horizon. He was looking below, inside the keep.”

Yorrin’s eyes widened. “What?” he said. “How is that even possible? Traitors?”

Prudence shrugged. “Maybe? Don’t think so, though. The man I saw… he looked afraid. He had a bow ready, though no arrow nocked.”

Huh. Yorrin frowned.

“The stone tower likely has its own defenses,” Aleksandr said. “A heavy door or gate of some kind. Perhaps the Svards have taken the keep—

“But not the tower,” Yorrin said, excited. “Oh! That’s good.”

“That’s what I was getting at, yeah,” Prudence said.

“Shut up, Prudence,” Yorrin snapped. Of course it was, no need to make a big deal of it.

“Thank you, Prudence,” Aleksandr said. “This is good news. But also bad.”

“Sir?” Prudence asked. “Figured it was mostly good news. If the Svards don’t have the tower, it should make storming Northwatch that much easier for the army on its way.”

“Da,” Aleksandr said. “It would. But can we afford to wait for Lord Cox and his men to arrive?”

“Good point,” Yorrin said. “Tell us, did you hear anything else from inside the walls? Like maybe… a loud banging sound?”

Prudence went pale. Paler than usual, even. Yorrin felt some satisfaction that she hadn’t figured this part out herself.

“Yes. I—yes. They’re battering down whatever defenses the tower has,” she whispered.

“They must have taken the keep recently,” Aleksandr said. “And the longer we wait, the more likely they will break through and kill the defenders in the tower.”

Yorrin met Aleksandr’s eyes, and he knew. Just from the look Aleksandr gave him, he knew. He nodded.

“So we don’t wait for Cox,” he said the words out loud, just to be sure.

“Shit,” Prudence muttered.

“Da,” Aleksandr agreed. “We must take Northwatch back ourselves.”

Prudence sighed. “I’m not disagreeing. But… from the voices inside, I think there’s at least a score of northmen in there. Maybe—probably more.”

We need to find a way to make their numbers irrelevant. Yorrin pondered the matter. 

“Da,” Aleksandr said. “It will not be easy. It is a wooden wall, da? Some of us can scale it, get the gates open. Try to force a fight in the open. Perhaps the men on the tower will come to our aid. We must try. We cannot stand by and watch while good men die.”

Oh. Of course. “No we can’t, sir,” Yorrin agreed. “But we may not need to storm the keep, either. I have a plan.”

Aleksandr cocked his head. “Oh?” Then his eyes widened. He sighed. “Oh. Da, I see.”

“It doesn’t have to be you, Aleksandr,” Yorrin said. “I can—”

“No,” Aleksandr said. “It is fine. This is a good plan, Yorrin. Tell the men to get ready. Prudence, can you tell Gunnar to find me? I will need him close by.”

“I’m usually pretty good at this, but I’m not sure I follow,” Prudence said. “What’s our plan of attack?”

Aleksandr gave her a wan smile. “None,” he said. “We will approach Northwatch openly, in full force.”

“Uh—what?” Prudence blinked in surprise.

Hah.

Aleksandr took a deep breath. “Simple. We are going there to talk.”